


Red Hearts and Non-Believers

by quilledcorsair



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS AU, Doctors AU, Psychologists AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quilledcorsair/pseuds/quilledcorsair
Summary: Dr. Swan was ready for a fresh start at Red Hearts Institution for Mental Health. She just wasn't read for that change to include the enigmatic Dr. Jones.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lookingforgrowth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookingforgrowth/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KENYA. (Even if it is a bit too late!) I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Also thanks to the wonderful @accio-ambition for beta-ing this <3

Emma sucked in a deep breath, clutching her coat tighter around her as she stared at the building looming in front of her.

 **Red Heart Institution of Mental Health** : the words stood out stark against the storm clouds that gathered, sending a shiver down her spine. Whether it was from the chill or the anticipation, she couldn't say. She gives herself another moment - just one more - to freak out, to doubt everything and almost choose to turn back and leave. And once the moment was over, she squared her shoulders, held her chin up, and marched through the doors.

At the reception desk, she greeted the brunette nurse with, "Hi. I'm Dr. Emma Swan. I have a meeting with Dr. Jones?" and a warm smile.

The nurse looked confused for a moment before realization dawned upon her. "Chief Liam Jones, you mean?"

"Ah, yes," she said sheepishly. _It’s chief now, Swan. You ought to know that_ , she chided herself.

The brunette tapped a couple of times on the tablet in her hand before smiling up at Emma. "I'm Ruby. I'll take you to him. I’m headed there myself."

And with that, Ruby stood and led Emma all the way to the other end of the building, to an office covered floor to ceiling with glass. Ruby nodded Emma in, greeting the man inside, dropping a stack of mail, and closing the door behind her with a resounding thud.

Liam grinned when he saw Emma, standing up from his desk and walking around to greet her. "Ah, so the prodigal intern returns," he said, his voice booming and arms outstretched to hug her.

“Not an intern anymore,” she corrected, hugging him back fiercely. “You should be lucky I accepted your offer,” she joked, pulling back and grinning wide.

“Well, then I am grateful that you did. Welcome you to the _Red Heart_ family.” Liam smiled charmingly, his expression softening slightly as he adopted a look of pride. “I’m glad you are here, Emma. You really are an invaluable addition to the team.”

She breathed in deep, turning away from him and taking in the view of the sea that lay beyond the glass-encased walls. “It’s good to be back,” she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “Thank you for this, Liam. After what happened, I -” Emma cut herself off, her chest suddenly tight and eyes burning. “You gave me a second chance, when no one else would,” she finished, turning to face him again, a tremulous smile on her face.

Liam gripped her by her shoulders with a sincere expression. “Emma Swan, you are the strongest person I’ve ever known. And a brilliant therapist. Whatever happened last year, it’s behind you now. Everyone has their own hard times, but you of all people know that you can’t let that stop you.”He paused, allowing his words to sink in.

She nodded, looking down at her feet in embarrassment. “Well, like I mentioned on the phone, you’ll be working alongside our resident psychiatrist. While you will have your own clients, and won’t be asked to consult on any other case unless it’s deemed necessary, at _Red Hearts_ we find it efficient when a particular case is handled by two professionals.”

“Right, of course.”

“Considering that you report under Dr. Mills, she usually decides which psychiatrist you work with, but I’ve taken the liberty to assign you under the best. Let’s go meet him, shall we?”

And without waiting for her answer, he simply grinned and led her out of his office to one a little ways down the hall. The blue door distinguished itself from all the other generic grey ones, a sign with _Dr. Killian Jones, M.D, PhD._ in bold letters on it. Emma’s eyebrows raised, not just because she was about to meet Killian, the younger brother Liam fondly spoke of when Emma has first met Liam, but this was _the_ Dr. Jones , the man renowned for his astonishing levels of accomplishments in the field, and all before he turned forty.

She shot Liam a wide-eyed look before he ushered her inside without so much as a knock.

“How many times must I insist you knock, Liam?” a dark haired man mumbled, not looking up from his notes until Liam cleared his throat. “Bloody hell, I’m busy-” the man began, but cut himself off when his eyes landed on Emma. She waved awkwardly, her lips spread into a thin smile.

“Emma, this is our resident psychiatrist and my little brother, Dr. Killian Jones,” Liam introduced with evident pride in his voice.

She smiled broadly, stepping forward to introduce herself to the slightly bewildered younger Jones. “I’m Dr. Emma Swan, the new clinical psychologist your brother hired,” she said, holding out her hand.

Killian shook his head, grinning charmingly at her – something that seems to be typical with the brothers Jones. “Pleased to meet you, Dr. Swan.” He shook her hand firmly. “My brother has told me a lot about you, and I am looking forward to working with you.”

Emma swallowed thickly, taking in his disheveled hair and startlingly blue eyes, his grin making his dimples more prominent. He looked gorgeous: his lab coat hanging loosely on his frame, the fitted black shirt underneath making suppress  a shiver. She almost sighed out loud when he lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

Liam’s loud throat clearing brought her out of her reverie, something she was thankful for. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by Kill- _Dr_ . _Jones._ She realised her hand was still in his grip and pulled it back, tucking it in the pocket of her jacket.

“Well, I shall let you both get acquainted, then,” Liam said, shaking his head at them. “Emma, take the week to settle down, familiarize yourself with the people. You will be working under Dr. Mills, who will be in tomorrow. If you need anything before then, my little brother will help you out.”

“Ah, _younger_ brother, you mean,” Killian corrected, scowling at Liam’s already retreating back. He turned to Emma, his gaze intense and fixing her in place. “Well, love, I’m sure you-”

“We’ve met before,” Emma blurted out, cutting him off mid-sentence. Killian’s brows furrowed, looking slightly taken aback.

“Have we? I’d remember meeting such a beautiful woman,” he smirked, one eyebrow raised.

Emma rolled her eyes and snorted, not allowing him to see how much the look really affected her. “Really? Does that line work?”

“Honestly, Swan.” Dr. Jones sauntered closer, until the tips of his sneakers hit those of her heels. “I don’t think I would forget meeting you,” he whispered, his breath hot on her face, making her shiver involuntarily and his smirk widen.

Emma glared, shifting away from him. “I don’t know what you are implying, _Dr. Jones_ , but I don’t think I like it.”

He looked taken aback, blinking at her straight-forwardness. As far as first impressions go, Emma was making a damn good one _._ His grin never faltered, as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

“Apologies, Swan. I just can’t seem to recall our first meeting. Help me out?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek.

She couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head. “Don’t worry too much about it, Dr. Jones. Maybe you can make up for it by helping me out. Point me in the direction of my office?” she asked instead, her arms crossed.

“Uh, of course. I think Liam already has your nameplate put in,” Killian chuckled, leading her out of his office and further down the hall, enthralled by this woman already.

-/-

It had been a couple of weeks since Emma joined _Red Hearts_ before she was assigned her first case: Mr. Graham Humbert, back after years of serving in the army. It took Dr. Mills a long time before she decided that Emma was ready to take up patients, her face fixed in her permanent scowl every time she saw Emma. She could hardly forget the antagonism she faced when she was first handed the file.

_“I trust that you won’t traumatise this man more than he already has been, Dr. Swan,” Dr. Mills commented when she handed Emma the case file. “Mr. Humbert is Storybrooke’s hero, I’ll have you know.”_

_Emma smiled thinly at her. “Dr. Mills, I’m an APA certified psychologist. I assure you, I am quite capable of doing my job,” she said through clenched teeth._

_She sent Emma an appraising look. “Well, considering what happened last year, can you blame me?” Regina shot at her, Emma’s heart dropping to her stomach and her eyes diverting from her intense stare. “I’ve read your file, Dr. Swan. I am in charge of your department, and if I say you’re ready, only then are you ready.”_

_Emma took in a deep breath, meeting Regina’s cold eyes with a confidence she didn’t really feel. “I can handle it just fine, Dr. Mills,” she snarled, plucking the file from her supervisor’s hand and walking away. She was flipping through the documents on her way back to her office and would have almost ran into Dr. Jones. If he hadn’t stopped her, that is._

_“Woah, there, love,” he warned, stepping out Emma’s way. When he noticed the distressed look on her face, he balanced the coffee cups he held in one hand as he reached for her, his hand meeting her shoulder. “You alright, Swan?” he questioned, brows furrowed._

_Still fuming, she simply nodded, brushing past him. She really didn’t want to deal with her past right now, and especially not with Dr. Jones around. And even despite her very obvious attempt at avoiding him, she couldn’t ignore it when he exclaimed after her,, “Swan, your Ron Swanson is showing. You really ought to watch that show,” in that ridiculous and maddening manner of his,  making her pause, turn around and do the most unprofessional thing she’d done since coming to_ Red Hearts _: she stuck her tongue out and him and walked away, leaving him bewildered._

However, Emma was grateful for the chance to work again, even if it meant having to put up with Dr. Mills and her constant scrutiny. She huffed, flipping through Mr. Humbert’s initial case report from the army’s assigned counsellor. Her stomach filled with butterflies, despite how confident she sounded with Regina. After what happened last year with -

She shook her head, dispelling all the negativity. She could do this: Liam believed in her and she should too.

Just then, she heard a tentative knock on her door. She stood up and smoothed down her pencil skirt, exhaling loudly before she opened the door with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mr. Humbert. I’m glad you could make it in today,” she said, ushering the man inside.

He looked resigned, plopping down unceremoniously on one of the empty chairs. He seemed like even being here was painful, running his hands through his hair. Emma took a seat opposite him, observing him for a couple of moments before she began, “Mr. Humbert-”

“Graham, please,” he interrupted, speaking for the first time since he came in, his voice rough and deep. “Just Graham.”

She nodded, smiling, “Alright. Graham, it is then. So, I read that you served with the army for the past thirteen years. That’s impressive,” she commented, watching as his jaw clenched. “How do you feel now?”

“Now that I am no longer at the front?” he asked, crossing his arms indignantly.

She shook her head. “No. How do you feel now that you’re back home?”

His brows creased. “How is that any different?”

“Well, it is. I don’t want you to think about how you aren’t there. I want you to think about how you feel being back here, with your family in the town you grew up in.”

He blinked at her, slightly taken aback. “I- I thought you would want me to talk about my time in the army,” he remarked, leaning back in his chair.

“We could talk about that, if you wished to. But I have a feeling you’ve been asked too many times about how you feel leaving behind your past, and not nearly enough about your future.” She smiled when he looked even more surprised at her words. “Graham, you’ve served our country for thirteen years. That’s commendable. And whatever your reasons are for leaving the service, they are just as important as you knowing that what lies ahead is _good_ for you.”

He canted his head to one side, looking at her with suddenly cold eyes. “Dr. Swan, why do you think I am here?” he rhetorically asked, not giving Emma any time to answer. “Because I’ve been mandated to do so. I’m not looking forward to a life back in some sleepy old town. There is nothing _good_ here.”

“Graham, you asked me yourself. Why are you here? And I don’t mean why you are here, in my office. I mean, why do you think you are back home? Why aren’t you out there?” she questioned, leaning forward slightly.

He gaped at her, trying – and failing – to formulate a response. She smiled. “Let me help you out.” She opened her file and pulled out a piece of paper. “In you admission form, you’d mentioned that you had had PTSD.”

Graham cleared his throat. “Yes. What about it?” When she was silent for a moment longer, his brows furrowed, anger simmering on the surface. “You think I left because I couldn’t deal with a little anxiety?” he snorted.

“Graham, can you tell me what happened before you were suspended from active duty?”

His jaw clenched, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously, fidgeting in his chair. “I already went over this with the army’s therapist. I am not facing the struggle that I did before, Dr. Swan. I have my PTSD under control”

“I simply want to see if I have my facts right. If you’ll allow me?” she asked, gesturing to her file, smiling when he nodded stiffly. “It says here that you mentioned blacking out a lot. Is that right?”

“That comes with the stress of the job,” he mumbled, but did not dispute her.

She nodded, pushing through. “Mr. Humbert, according to your previous doctor’s notes, you seem to have suffered from lapses in memory as well. I want you to elaborate a bit on that.”

He sighed deeply, running his hand over his uneven stubble before he started talking.

-/-

When Graham left her office 45 minutes later, Emma sighed, placing her head on her folded arms across her desk, her mind processing everything. She was startled out of her thoughts by a slight knock, her head snapping up, and her eyes falling on Dr. Jones. She must have looked a sight, hair falling over her face and eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Dr. Jones,” she nodded, pushing her hair out of her face, smiling brightly at him. “How can I help you?” she asked, sitting up straight.

Killian grinned bashfully at her (something that he seems to be doing a lot of) walking through the doors to her office, plopping down on the seat that Graham had just abandoned. “Well, Liam has been called to consult on a case in New York, so he asked me to check up on you.”

She frowned. “I don’t need babysitting, Dr. Jones-” she started, but he cut her off.

“Swan, I’d like to think that in the past two weeks, we’ve come to become friends. Killian will do.”

“Work proximity associates,” she muttered, making him grin wider, if that were possible.

“Aha! So you finally caved and saw Parks and Rec,” he teased, his eyebrows shooting up.

She shook her head. “ _Killian_ , I don’t need you to babysit me. I don’t know what Liam told you, but I can handle myself.”

“Swan, I said he asked me to keep an eye on you, not that I was going to do it. I think you can handle yourself well enough.” Killian smirked. “You handled things with Regina well enough.”

She felt her face heat up, not trying to conceal her grin. “That _was_ pretty badass,” she mused. “But she has good reasons for her concern.”

“Whatever they may be, Emma, you can talk to me about them if you wish to. But don’t let it affect you now.” Leaning forward, Killian continued, his voice taking a softer tone. “And for the record, Liam didn’t tell me anything regarding your... past. That is yours to share, not public knowledge.”

Her chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice, sending out a prayer for Liam’s discretion, even as she rolled her eyes. “Killian, it’s in my file. You can read about it whenever you want.”

He pursed his lips, brows furrowing. “Swan, your life isn’t a file. I’d much rather get to know you from you rather than from some file. That’s between you, my brother – and to an extent, Regina.”

Her eyes widened at his forwardness as she quickly stood up from her seat, her palms suddenly sweaty. “You are awfully forward for a guy who met me not two weeks ago,” she said stiffly.

He stood up as well, hands tucked into his back pockets. “Well, I’d like to think that you are a bit of an open book, love.”

Emma stiffened, her nostrils flaring in anger. “You don’t know me-”

“Aye, and I hold no delusions that I do, Swan,” he replied, hands raised in surrender. “Although, I would like to.” And there it was, his signature smirk and eyebrow life, making her breath hitch just the slightest.

“Like to what? Get to know me better?” she asked dryly.

“Perhaps,” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?” he asked, his expression mellowing down into something softer.

She met his eyes, her guard slipping slightly as she regarded him. “Killian,” she sighed, ready to decline, but he placed his hand on her arm, stopping her before she could.

“I know you want to say no.” His voice was so soft when he spoke, his eyes roving over her face. “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t.”

“Oh? This is coming from the guy who asked me out?” she canted her head to one side, unable to help from being amused. “That works out conveniently for you.”

He huffed, looking away from her for a moment, his jaw clenching before he turned back to her, his cerulean gaze piercing. “Swan, live a little. Go out on a date with me?” he asked, trying to sound more assertive than he felt.

She sighed, clutching her files a little closer. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You know me so well already,” he teased, but quickly sobered up. “Listen, I’m not - I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, Emma. I like you, and I would like to get to know you better, preferably outside this office, but only if you are up for it.”

She blinked, constantly surprised by how forward this man was, and by how well he seemed to read her. “Killian, you’re really sweet. And I -” she breathed in deep, finding the courage buried deep. “I do like you. But I can’t. This job means too much for me to jeopardise it. I’m sorry.” She pushed past him, leaving him confounded. She paused for a moment, shooting him a tight smile. “I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

“Of course not, Swan.”

-/-

The next day, as Killian strolled into the in-patients’ wing of the institute, smiling wistfully at his mother’s watercolours hung up on the walls, he spotted Emma having an animated discussion with Mr. Truner, a man who believed that he was both Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He grinned, ready to wave at her when he noticed her stepping away from the elderly man, waving at him with a smile. His curiosity getting the better of him, he followed her for a little while, before she stopped, sighing out loud.

“Dr. Jones, there’s no need to follow me. I’m just getting myself some coffee,” she voiced, turning to him with a smirk, smug for having caught him.

“Well, Dr. Swan, I would like to join you. That is, if you don’t misconceive it to be a date,” he shot back, making her eyes roll.

“Well, colour me lucky,” she said in a monotone.

He took her non-objection as permission and fell into step with her. “How are you liking it here?” he asked politely.

Emma smiled almost subconsciously. “I love it here. The place is amazing. I heard it was a mansion before they converted it into a mental health facility.”

“Aye,” he nodded. “It used to be the family home, on our mum’s side, actually,” he added, sotto voce.

“Oh.” After a beat, she added. “Your mother must be proud.”

He simply nodded, suddenly grateful that they reached the elusive coffee cart. “Why this cart, all the way over here?” he asked, eyebrows pursed.

“It’s the intern’s cart,” she said as a manner of explanation, which only left him more confused. She shook her head, trying to hide a smile at his adorable bemused expression. “They need stronger coffee. You know, ‘cause they do _all_ the work,” she replied sardonically.

Killian chuckled, ordering his plain black, raising his eyebrows when she got hot cocoa. “Seriously? Hot cocoa makes most people drowsy.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” she shrugged. It was her turn to mock him when he dumped three packets of sugar in his coffee. “Don’t you think there’s a little too much coffee in your sugar?”

He rolled his eyes, stirring his drink. “Let’s head to our offices, Swan. You’re far less condescending there.”

-/-

Killian barged into Regina’s office, not bothering to knock. He knew she had no appointments today, so why did it matter?

As it turned out, it really did.

“Regina, my dear, love’s a fickle thing – Oh, Swan?” He cut himself off when he noticed Emma perched opposite Regina, both women regarding him curiously, although Regina was more amused than angry at his flustered expression.

“Uh, yeah. Regina and I were just discussing some cases, but I could leave if you want to...” she trailed off, looking between Regina and Killian.

“That’s quite alright, Dr. Swan. I think I’ve heard enough.” Regina smiled thinly at Emma. “Keep doing what you are, but I expect weekly reports still.”

Emma nodded jerkily, gathering her files and almost flying past Killian, barely acknowledging his presence. His eyes followed her, concerned and confused at her hasty exit.

“You stare too much, she might just disappear,” Regina commented, making him snap his gaze back to her.

“I have no idea what you’re implying, love,” he shrugged, leaning against the door jamb.

She rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Killy?” she asked teasingly, making him scowl at her.

“Liam shouldn’t have told you about that. Bloody arse,” he grumbled, playing with the crystal apple on her table. “What an obnoxious bauble,” he commented, throwing it in the air and catching it, pushing Regina’s patience. “You truly have an austere sense of style.”

“Killian, I really don’t have time for your childish games. I have a lot of work, so could you just tell me whatever you wanted to and be on your way?” she snapped, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

He raised his hands in surrender, showing her the file he brought with him. “I adjusted Mrs. Meyer’s medication. You said she was reacting poorly to the last prescription?”

“Yes. She became agitated and it takes the nurses a long time to calm her down. Thank you for this. She’s going to need a neuro consult, too.” Regina grabbed the file, flipping it open, pursuing his notes thinking he would add something about the case. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to, she sighed. “Okay. You get five minutes.”

He grinned, leaning forward in his chair. “I asked her out.”

“Who?”

“Emma.”

“Dr. Swan?”

“No, not Dr. Swan. Emma. The very lovely women who just left. Not Dr. Swan, the person who you’ve been giving a hard time, to be quite honest,” he snarked

Regina blinked, looking taken aback for a moment, “You’re telling me how to do my job now?” She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“Of course I’m not.” He rolled his eyes. “But even you have to agree that this kind of close scrutiny, it’s too much. You don’t even have our interns on such a tight leash.”

“Killian, she’s lucky to even have her license.”

“That’s your opinion, Regina.”

“Oh, so what? You know everything now? You know what’s right for my department?” she demanded, her voice raising. “Do you even know what happened?”

“No, I don’t.” Killian scrubbed his hands over his face. “But that shouldn’t affect your judgement now. You’re a psychologist. You of all people shouldn’t let someone’s past affect your judgement of them.”

When he saw that she was still tense, he smiled, going around the table. “Hey, I would never question what goes on in your department, lass. I know you would never be antagonistic towards anyone, without reason,” he added, making her stern expression soften a little. “I just think you should cut her some slack.”

Regina rolled her eyes, but nodded. “I’ll try. Does this have anything to do with her answer?”

“Answer to what? Oh, right. the date.” He scratched behind his ear. “She said no.”

“And that somehow translates to her liking you...how?” She raised her brows mockingly, trying not to laugh.

“Well, because she told me,” he retorted, his grin growing smugger when he noticed her surprise.

“What are you going to do about it?” Regina questioned, leaning forward in her chair.

He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. She said she didn’t want to jeopardize her career. I couldn’t exactly refute that, but I- I don’t see how this would-”

“Jones, did she tell you what happened last year?”

“No, but she said it’s in her file. That’s why you’re extra vigilant with her, aren’t you?” He realised, his eyebrows shooting up. “Something happened related to her job?”

“Hey, not my place to say anything,” she replied, throwing her hands up in the air. “And unless you are getting an appointment, this is the end of the free therapy,” she added, making a shooing motion.

Killian rolled his eyes, getting up from his seat. “Tell Roland that I’m picking him up at 6 a.m. on Friday for our camping trip,” he reminded her.

Regina tensed for a moment, her hands clenching on the files in her hands. She breathed in deep. “Of course. Thank you, Killian, for doing this for him,” she said, her breath stuttering.

His expression softened, his smile somewhat sad. He moved around her desk, kneeling beside her chair, grabbing her hand in his. “Hey, you’re my _best friend_. Robin was, too. I know how difficult it is for you, every year. Besides, Robin wouldn’t want Roland to miss out on camping trips, even if he isn’t there to take him.”

Regina smiled, squeezing his hand tightly. “I just- I really _miss_ him sometimes,” her voice breaking toward the end.

Killian nodded understandingly, smiling tightly at her. “I know. I do, too.”

-/-

Killian had woken up in strange places, but waking up on a picnic table near the docks with Emma Swan’s concerned face obscuring his view was by far the strangest. He blinked awake, squinting at the too-bright light.

“Swan?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Where- What am I doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you. I was out jogging when I saw you sleeping here, like a homeless person.” She rationalised “I mean, I know _you_ aren’t homeless, but before I knew it was you…” she trailed off, waving her hand dismissively.

It was then that his mind became fully alert, taking in the jogging clothes that Emma wore, the skin tight yoga pants and t-shirt making his swallow thickly, his eyes straying downwards before he caught himself, mentally berating himself and missing what she’d said. “Pardon, love? What was that?”

Emma shook her head, holding out her hand. “C’mon. We’ll get some coffee in you, wake you up.” He hesitated a moment, before following her wordlessly, his head still pounding in the wake of his hangover.

“So, what had you so out of it that you passed out on a picnic table?” she asked once they’d settled  in her kitchen at her modest loft apartment. Killian had looked around, taking in her lack of personal touch but chose not to comment on it. Not need to enrage the Goddess providing the coffee.

He grabbed the sugar container she offered, spooning it in. “It’s hard to explain, Swan,” he replied, his voice thick with sleep, and if he was being honest, _pain_. Today marked the third year anniversary of Robin’s death; he’d spent last night getting piss drunk. He regretted it, of course, because Robin wouldn’t want him to do this. He’d have wanted him to be with Regina and Roland to help them cope. But he’d been the selfish arse he was, reliving the past and hanging on to a ghost of his memory.

“Killian?” Emma’s concerned voice broke through his haze. “Do you want to sleep it off?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“I’m fine, love,” he smiled tightly. “I- I lost someone I really care about, three years ago today. Last night’s drinking didn’t exactly help matter much.”

Her expression softened, her hand reaching to squeeze his forearm. She absentmindedly traced the zipper on the sleeve of his jacket, as she said, “I lost my parents when I was a little kid. Don’t really remember them, I was hardly two, I think. I had my older brother with me, he was seven at the time. We were put in foster care together, and we had to stick up for each other a lot, waiting for someone willing to adopt the both of us. Eventually we did get adopted, but I know what it feels like to lose someone you care about. I’ve-” she paused, shaking herself out of the reverie, realising how close to tears she was. “It never gets easier. I guess that’s why we need therapists,” she laughed dryly. “To make sure no one is alone in this world,” she said, her eyes looking up at his, seeing the same look she’d see every time she looked at the mirror.

“We’re all lost, just waiting to be found, is that it?” he quipped. And with that, he bid her goodbye, leaving Emma more confused than ever about her inexplicable attraction to the man.

-/-

Emma sighed, frustration emanating from her in waves. She’d been assigned _one_ case, and she was sure she was messing it up.

After the first few weeks of constant scrutiny from Regina, Emma was surprised when Regina agreed with her initial diagnosis for Graham, even allowing her to proceed with further testing. She was even more surprised when she didn’t insist on supervising her, which is why she was unwilling to fail. She felt like Regina was finally trusting her; she couldn’t fail now.

“Swan?” she heard a voice call, breaking through the fog of doubt and misery surrounding her. She looked up from the paperwork scattered across her desk.

“Huh?” She sat up straighter, smoothing down her hair, trying to appear casual.

“You alright?” Killian asked, hesitating at her doorway.

“Yep,” she answered too quickly. “Did you need anything?”

“Uh, I’m headed to Granny’s and wanted to know if you needed anything.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

His brows pulled together in concern. “Everything alright, Swan?”

She looked up at him finally, and he could now see how clearly exhausted she was. “Is this you asking as my friend or my colleague?” she questioned.

“Whatever you need me to be,” he answered honestly, perching on the edge of her desk.

She took a deep breath. “I think Graham has a dissociative disorder. I don’t think he ever had PTSD. There is no prevailing evidence to even suggest PTSD. I have no idea how they came to that conclusion.”

“Do you have any evidence to back up your claim?” he asked, grabbing the file she handed him, flipping through it. “Do you want to start him on a medication regime?” When she remained quiet for too long, his gaze shifted to hers, noticing for the first time her apprehension. “What do you want to do, _Dr_. Swan?” he asked, emphasising on her title.

“I want to do an extensive screening first. I want to know exactly what I’m dealing with,” she stated finally.

He nodded approvingly. “Well, then you should do that.”

“But what about Regina?” she asked, biting her lip, her doubts coming back.

“What about her?” he countered, crossing his arms.

“What if she doesn’t agree with me?”

“He’s your patient, Emma. She doesn’t know what’s best for him. _You_ do. If you believe that he needs further testing, you do it. We have the resources, and as for Regina,” he paused, smiling. “She’s not all that bad.”

“Yeah, well, she’s _your_ best friend, not mine,” Emma scoffed.

Killian rolled his eyes, staring at her intently. “Emma, this is the job. You need to make the right call, and in order to do that, you need to be sure. We are dealing with the mind here: it’s not like the rest of the body. It’s intangible, but it can be easily moulded, if you know what you are doing. You do the wrong thing, diagnose wrongly, give people the wrong medication, and it can have dire consequences.” He stared at her intensely for a moment. “You need to be sure, _absolutely sure_ . This man, Graham? He just needs a little help – help _you_ can give him. But to do that, you need to believe in yourself first.”

He ran his hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. “Emma, I don’t know you outside of work, mostly because you don’t let me.” He raised his eyebrow at that, making her roll her eyes. “But you seem to have a handle on things. You seem smart; this isn’t your first time doing this, love. You’re a professional, and I know you aren’t going to fudge it up.”

“You really think so?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as her eyes met his. He could see how much she already trusted him - could see the doubt and self-loathing in her eyes - and his heart clenched. He smiled widely and placed his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

There was only one thing he could do now.

Emma looked confused when he tugged on her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

His vague reply did nothing to ease her confusion, as she floundered for words, dragging her feet to force him to stop and explain. After a moment, he threw his head back with a sigh. “Swan, try something new; it’s called trust.” He grabbed her hand again before she could reply, leading her down a deserted hallway.

She groaned in exasperation, snatching her hand from his grip after a few minutes of being dragged along behind him. “ _Dr. Jones!_ ” she exclaimed, her tone sharp and halting. “This is highly inappropriate and childish. I thought I made it clear, I don’t - ” she cut herself off when he opened the door they were standing in front of, gaping at the sight that greeted them.

“I told you to trust me, love,” Killian whispered, ushering her through the door with a hand on the small of her back, his eye crinkling at the corners when he saw her wide-eyed amazement at the view in front of her.

Emma watched, enchanted by the sight. They were standing several feet away from the beach, but she could still feel the strong ocean breeze, hear the waves crashing in a gentle symphony against the rocks. Her breath caught, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in deep, her heart soaring with the bliss she felt the moment the chill of the air permeated through her thin sweater. She turned to look at Killian, who was sat comfortably at a stone bench, grinning wide at her tranquil expression.

“Killian, this place is beautiful,” she breathed, sliding down next to him, her hand brushing his as their gaze shifted back to the beach that lay sprawled ahead.

He shrugged, his head canted to one side. “When our mother built this place, she said she wanted to be on the ocean’s threshold. This was our home, once. Before it became _Red Hearts_ , that is. She used to love coming here, sitting with her tea and our dog, Angus.” He smiled wistfully. Emma regarded him carefully, her eyes sweeping over his profile, her heart stuttering as he turned to her suddenly, their lips a hair’s breath away.

She met his gaze with such a tender expression. It made him feel a rush of emotions. He had to turn away before he did anything untoward. He knew the moment he met her he would be completely besotted with her. But he never expected something like _this_ \- exchanging quips with her in the middle of the workday, catching glimpses of her in the library after hours, scrolling through pages of research study, watching her frequent the coffee cart for her morning (and afternoon and evening) fix of hot cocoa. He would be embarrassed by how enthralled he was with her, had she been anyone else. But Emma Swan was a force of nature, and he would consider himself blessed if she dragged him along with her.

“Yale,” she said softly, bringing him out of his thoughts, as he side-eyed her in bemusement. “That’s where we first met,” she continued, her gaze now turned towards the churning sea. “It was my first year of graduate school and I attended this conference there. You were one of the panellists that night and I was – I was _inspired_ by your speech, Dr. Jones. The way you spoke about mental illness, the way you – I was fascinated by you. For someone so young, you had accomplished so much. But you never showed the kind of high-and-mightiness you’d expect from someone like that. I wanted to be like you, I swear.” She laughed then, a soft tinkling thing that made him smile wider. “I never realised that I’d get to actually work _with_ you,” she finished, shaking her head with a slight smirk.

He blinked, gaping at her, his throat suddenly tight. “I had no idea what I was saying,” he blurted out, prompting her to shoot him a skeptical look, her arms crossed as she turned fully to face him. “I mean it. That was the first time I was asked to give any kind of speech, and that was only because Liam had to cancel last minute and convinced the board to let me fill his shoes. I’d never felt more unprepared – or embarrassed – to be honest. Fresh out of graduate school myself and all that.” He waved, looking surprisingly embarrassed for a man who seemed to think the world revolved around him.

“What in the world did you have to be embarrassed about?” She raised an eyebrow, shock evident in her gesture. “You were amazing up there, Killian!” she exclaimed.

He stared down at his lap, shaking his head as he let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Swan, I was as green as they come. I had no bloody idea what to say... and trying to fill my brother’s shoes - that was a big deal. He was the one they’d come to hear talk, not his little brother living in his shadow.”

“That’s bull,” she snapped, making him stare at her in mild amusement. “Yes, Liam may or may not have revolutionized the field, but _you_ -” she grabbed his arm, making him look at her, her gaze holding his. “ _You_ are special. Your words changed my life, Killian Jones, whether you like it or not. You inspired me to do the best I could, and more. Your passion, your compassion, it was so evident. And it still is, even more so now.” Her hands gripped his tight, her lips slightly parted. “You are a brilliant person, and most importantly, you have a kind heart. You may think you live in your brother’s shadow, but -”

She cut herself off, licking her lips before she said the next part. “But you have no idea how bright you shine all by yourself,” she finished in a whisper.

Killian’s lips parted, his chest tight with barely concealed emotion. He squeezed her hand back, the other one rising to cup cheek, his fingers hesitating, just shy of touching her actual skin. His eyes never leaving hers for even a moment, as he looked at her tenderly, tracing the contours of her face, searing them in his memory. “Emma...” he whispered, brushing his nose against hers, her eyes fluttering closed at the soft gesture.

“Killian,” she sighed breathlessly, her free hand fisting his shirt. And just as their lips brushed against each other, feather light, her beeper went off, making her jump, dropping her arms abruptly, and pushing him away from her with a force that jarred him. She stared at him wide-eyed, biting her lips at his bewildered expression.

Killian blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the sudden change in their proximity. One second he was leaning in to kiss the woman that’s been invading his thoughts for the last month and the next he was hanging onto to the edge of the seat, trying to keep from falling away, said woman looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but with him.

Emma looked distressed as she smoothed her hand down her blouse and pulled her hair away from her face, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Killian – I mean, Dr. Jones - I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry I gave you the wrong idea,” she muttered, turning her back to him and starting to walk away.

“Wait, Swan!” he called, rushing behind her and falling in step with her, his long legs able to keep up with her faster pace. “Emma,” he sighed, pulling on her arm when she refused to stop. “Dr. Swan,” he gritted out through clenched teeth when she tried to move past him. “Talk to me, love,” he whispered, his tone less harsh and more pleading.

“What I did, well, _almost_ did was completely inappropriate, Killian. We can’t do that,” she replied, her voice just as soft. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression,” she murmured, looking at her feet.

“You’re lying to yourself, love,” he argued, his brows pulled together. When she looked up, a protest ready on her lips, he cut her off. “And that’s alright. I care about you, and I don’t mind waiting,” he finished, the corner of his mouth lifting in a hopeful smile.

Emma swallowed thickly, her eyes meeting his earnest blue ones. “I’m not going to change my mind,” she retorted, even as her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “We are just colleagues, Dr. Jones. I hope you can respect that,” she said sotto voce.

Killian watched, despondent, as she walked away, his heart clenching painfully.

Unbeknownst to him, Emma ducked into the closest empty room once she rounded the corner, pressing her forehead against the closed door, her heart pounding and eyes stinging.

 _This is for the best_ , she decided, even as every part of her protested the decision. She wanted to agree with him, because she _did_ want to be with him. _Of course_ she did. But that meant she had to let go of her past, and she wasn’t ready for that.

-/-

Later that night, he showed up with a bottle of wine, and apology written all over his face.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you, Swan,” he explained, handing her a glass as he joined her for her ‘movie night,’ which he had unwittingly interrupted. He took one look at the television screen behind her and invited himself over for some overdue Star Wars marathon.

“And I apologize for crashing your movie night. I know you want to keep things _professional_ , but I never could follow instructions,” he added, his eyes fixated on the screen.

Emma was simply too exhausted to argue, and so they spent the night watching _Empire Strikes Back_ , sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine. She never realised that this would become a tradition for them.

-/-

The month following the incident with Killian, Emma got a lot busier, with Regina finally assigning her more cases, and Killian and her forming an amicable friendship with the weekly movie nights. While she was thankful for her career, since he was the only person who was not only a psychiatrist but also a qualified neuropsychologist, she still saw him more often than necessary. No matter how much she tried, that man was absolutely impossible to resist on movie night. Mostly because he bought the good popcorn.

It also doesn’t help matters that, with Liam still in New York, he was in-charge, and he assigned himself to assist her on all her cases. No matter how much she wished he would stop trying, she couldn’t help but feel glad that he didn’t.

Just like that, they’d slipped into an easy routine. Everyday she’d walk into her office to find a to-go cup of hot chocolate, then she’d meet with clients for the first half of the day, meet Killian for lunch to discuss their open cases, spent the rest of the day trailing Regina as she introduced a new social skills program for the in-patients. At the end of the day, she drove home, a smile on her face and her heart lighter.

It was during one of their movie nights, when he insisted that they needed to watch Finding Nemo and she couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you so optimistic about everything?”

He stiffened for a moment, thrown by her question, and confused, to say the least. “What?”

“I mean, every time we talk, whether it’s about a movie or one of our cases or even-” she gestured between the two of them, “- when I tell you nothing’s bound to happen with us, you are so unerringly positive. It’s annoying, if I’m being honest,” she folded her arms, frowning slightly as she turned to face him fully.

He followed suit, pausing the movie and sitting cross-legged, such that their knees touched. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Swan. I just prefer to look at the bright side.The negativity comes easily to everyone, the dark-side is always tempting,” he winked, making her roll her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that he could never be serious.

But before she could turn away from him, he continued, his voice much softer, as if he was recalling a fond memory. “Besides, I made my mum a promise. She wanted the best for us, and when - when she got ill,” he paused, looking down at his lap, composing himself.

“Killian, you don’t have to tell me,” she whispered, her hand squeezing his knee.

“It’s alright, Emma,” he smiled. “She was the kind of person who would brighten up a room with her smile. She was brilliant, never did let anything stop her or push her down. Even when she got ill, her optimism never diminished. And when her time came, she made us promise that we wouldn’t stop living our lives, or even pause it. She told us that there is freedom even with grief. Mum never shielded me and Liam from the horrors of real life, but she helped us face them. It would be an insult to her memory if I stop looking at the brightside just because she’s gone.”

Emma pressed her lips together, tears swimming in her eyes. She leaned forward, hugging him tightly. He stiffened in surprise, hoping that she wasn’t pitying him, but her next words put him at ease. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” she whispered, squeezing him tighter.

He smiled, his own arms winding around her.

-/-

By the time summer rolled around, Emma had been with _Red Hearts_ for four months and Liam had returned from New York with a broad grin and a skip in his step, which made everyone more curious about the reason behind his long absence. So when she was paged to meet him, Emma’d assumed it was about his _work_ at New York.

What she didn’t expect was to come face-to-face with her past.

Emma grinned, excited to see Liam after so many months, as she knocked on the door before entering. “Good morning! I am _so_ glad you’re back!” she greeted, her smile faltering at the grim expression on Liam’s face. “You don’t look like you’re glad to be back,” she stated dryly, closing the door behind her.

“Dr. Swan, take a seat please,” he said in reply, causing a chill in her bones as her expression soured quickly. She took a seat opposite him, ice in her veins and her heart pounding hard against her chest, her brows furrowed in worry.

“What is it?” Her hands were trembling so much she had to press them together, trying to regulate her breathing.

Liam regarded her silently for so long she started to fidget in her seat, her eyes never leaving him. Finally he sighed, running a hand through his short curls.

“Emma, when I was in New York, I met someone who was really interested in finding you.”

Her eyes widened, already having an idea about who that might be. But she still couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Me? Who was it?”

Liam pursed his lip, shaking his head. “I think you know who I’m talking about, Emma. Why didn’t you tell me what really happened?” he questioned, his brows pulled together and his voice lowered an octave.

“I didn’t realise that it had anything to do with how I do my job,” she snapped, her tone icy even as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to work,” she replied, indignantly getting up from her seat.

Just as Liam rose to stop her, the door to his office opened, revealing the one person Emma was not ready to face. She gasped, frozen in her tracks and her eyes wide as saucers. She fisted her hands, biting down her lower lip to stop the trembling, even as her eyes filled with traitorous tears.

The man at the door looked just as shocked to see her, his eyes already rough around the edges, his throat working as he swallowed thickly. He moved cautiously towards her, his hand reaching for her unconsciously, but she flinched away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice raw with pain.

Liam piped up when the man was too busy staring at her to answer. “He said you left without a word, Emma. He just wanted to see if you were alright.” His voice was soft, trying to soothe her freshly-opened wounds. But soft words and explanations weren’t going to help her now. She whirled around, her enraged gaze settling on Liam.

“You had _no right_ to interfere in my life,” she hissed, even as her vision blurred slightly.

“ _Emma_ ,” the man finally spoke, his voice broken and pained, making her heart clench and eyes squeeze shut to keep out the hurt.

She blew out a shuddering breath, turning to face her past – both literally and metaphorically. “ _David_ ,” she sighed, her tears finally falling as her brother covered the distance between them in a stride, his strong arms wrapping around her tight, holding onto her as if his life depended on it.

-/-

Liam had left them the room so they could talk twenty minutes ago, murmuring half-heartedly about checking on some patients before he made his less-than-subtle exit. Emma barely had a moment after he left before her brother swamped her with questions, both anger and concern evident in his tone.

“You left without a word,” he whispered, his shoulders slumped and defeated, the burden of the past few months with her missing weighing heavy on him.

“I know,” she intoned, her voice rough from the tears. “I know I hurt you, David. All I can say is I’m sorry,” she sighed, spreading her hands out helplessly.

“Emma, I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want an explanation, because one minute you were there and then next thing I know, you’ve cleared out of your apartment and no one knows where you are.” He ran a hand down his face, weariness exuding from every pore, making her heart hurt from the guilt.

“I didn’t know what to say,” she admitted, looking down at her lap, knowing that if she looked up, she would blurt everything out and that wouldn’t help anyone now.

“How about a goodbye, to begin with?!” he burst out, throwing his hands up in the air for added emphasis.

“David, please,” she began, her voice low and tremulous. “I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left so abruptly, but I just, I needed to get away from there. I needed some space, and then it just became easier-”

“So, what? You ran, and you felt like if you kept running, that you’d eventually forget that it happened? That you could erase your _family_ from your memory?” He shook his head. “You spent a year doing nothing except sit at home and close yourself off from the world. Then you _leave_ , with no contact for months. If it weren’t for Liam Jones, we wouldn’t even know that you were _alive_.”

The worst part of David’s tirade was that he sounded more disappointed than angry. It broke Emma’s heart, seeing her brother in so much pain, pain that _she_ caused him. And if she knew Mary Margaret, she would be in a similar state.

“How’s Mary Margaret?” she asked, clearing her throat, deflecting his questions.

David gaped at her for a moment in disbelief, before he smiled crookedly. “Worried. She’s still in New York, because I didn’t know that I’d actually find you here.” He hesitated, breathing deep before he continued. “We’re getting married in two months,” he added, smiling almost unconsciously.

Emma’s eyes widened, her own lips lifting into a grin. “That is amazing, David!” she exclaimed, grabbing his hands with hers, squeezing tight. Her eyes welled up again, but she pushed them back, having had enough with the tears for a long while. “When I left, I didn’t think of anyone else but myself. And I’m sorry about that. I’m glad you found me, ‘cause I don’t think I would have ever had the courage to reach out to you after how I left things,” she sniffled, her expression slipping into something more sombre.

Wordlessly, he pulled her out of the chair and into his arms, one hand stroking down her hair in a soothing motion. “We’re your family, Emma. You shouldn’t ever be scared of asking us for help, is that understood?” he whispered against her hair, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead before pulling back.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, chuckling slightly. Her brows furrowed when he started talking about her return to New York. “David,” she began, her bemusement clear by her expression. “I’m not coming back. Storybrooke was our home a long time ago, and it is my home now. I have a job here, a life that is not haunted constantly by bad memories. It’s a fresh start. That’s why I came here the moment Liam offered me a job.”

David looked taken aback, letting out a long breath. “But what about us? And Ingrid? She still doesn’t know where you are. Have you even talk to her in all this time?” he demanded, his arms crossing his chest in the elder brother stance he had perfected over the years.

She sighed, taking her seat again, burying her head in her hands. “No,” came her muffled reply. “Well, technically yes. I did tell her I was alright and that I needed time.”

“Which is more that you ever told me or Mary Margaret,” he murmured, returning to his own seat.

“And I have apologised for that, David! What more do you want?” she exclaimed, his constant snide remarks starting to get on her nerves. “I know that you’re my brother, and that I shouldn’t have left. Okay? I know that,” she continued, her voice raising slightly. “But I lost _so much_ in New York. Me being there, pretending like I didn’t lose my job, my-” she cut herself off, biting down on her lip to stop her lip from trembling. “I couldn’t pretend I was okay anymore. So, yes, I ran. But for once, it was the right thing to do. I’m finally starting to feel _truly_ happy, so if you can forgive me and be happy _for_ me, you can stay. Otherwise, come visit.”

And with that, she stormed out, leaving David in the dust, gaping at her retreating form.

Emma swallowed down the urge to cry, heading toward her office as fast as she could, needing a moment alone to collect her thoughts before she did something stupid, like shouting at her boss for being such a third-rate asshole by bringing David here without giving her even a slight warning.

She slammed the door to her office, her knees buckling under her as she stumbled to one of the chairs near her desk.

Her eyes rapidly filled with tears, Emma unable to stop them now as she covered her face with her hands, sobbing into them, her chest heaving and her gut clenching painfully as every horrible memory from the last year assaulted her all at once. She was crying so much, she barely heard the door open, and when she realised, it was already too late to compose herself. She looked up with glassy eyes and runny nose to take in Killian’s concerned expression. The softness in his gaze only made her feel worse, her heart tightening as she quickly looked down, her hands wiping away at her cheeks in a futile attempt to hide her distress.

She quickly stood up, turning away from him as she pretended to shuffle some papers on her desk, her hands shaking slightly.

“Swan?” His voice was almost a whisper, the worry evident in his voice. “Emma,” he tried again, when she refused to answer, her lower lip sucked into her mouth, trying to quiet her whimpers.

“Ca- Can I talk to you later, if that’s okay? I just need a minute,” she finally stuttered out, her voice dense with tears.

Killian’s worry only grew, his hands clenching at his sides as her shoulders shook violently. She was as far from okay as she has ever been, and seeing her in such visible pain made him sick to his stomach, his entire being _yearning_ to comfort her. To hold her, to soothe her in any way he could.

“Emma, what happened?” he asked, vexed. She shook her head, her hands fisting the papers in her hands. He hesitated before reaching for her arm, turning her to face him. She resisted, but it was in vain, because if Killian Jones’ mind was set on something, he wouldn’t rest until it was done. And right now, that something was to make Emma Swan smile, no matter what it took.

She breathed out a faltering breath, feeling like she was stretched thin. “Killian, please -” she began, but he cut her off, his arms coming around her, surrounding her in warmth, the smell of his cologne distinct. Immediately, she felt all the tension flee as she leaned into him. “You don’t have to be here,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder, her eyes shut tight even as the tears started again.

“I do. You’re my friend, and I want to be here for you.” His voice had a sense of finality that she couldn’t – and didn’t – want to fight.

Initially, Emma tried to control her crying, but once the first sob escaped, the rest followed, her arms rising to cling at Killian’s back as she felt her knees give out, tears soaking his lab coat.

He hardly minded. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back, wordlessly letting her cry, knowing that no words would help her now.

When she was able to gain some control over herself, gather all her broken parts into a semblance of a pile, she pulled away slightly, her hands falling down to cling to his arms. Killian grabbed at the tissues on her desk, handing her a few. She sniffled, blowing her nose. She must have been a sight: red-eyed with mascara and tears trailing down her cheeks, not to mention how snotty she got whenever she cried.

She mumbled an apology, dropping her arms and starting to move away from him, but Killian simply sat her back down on her previously abandoned seat, crouching in front of her, absent-mindedly swiping at the remaining tears on her face.

“Ready to talk about it?” he smiled, his head tilted to one side and his eyes so goddamn blue and welcoming, it made her melt sometimes. Specifically, now.

“Killian, I’m a mess. You don’t want any part of this,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

His jaw clenched, before he spoke, his voice stronger now. “Let me be the judge of that, Swan,” he drawled, getting up only to take a seat opposite her, grabbing her hands in his. “I know you don’t like it when I say things like this, but I’m here for you, love. Any way you’ll let me,” he added, his gaze honest and intense, making her breath stutter.

Emma inhaled deeply, sitting up straight.

“A year ago, when I was still at St. Mary’s, I was seeing someone. Dr. Neal Cassidy, head of Trauma there. He was, um, he was married back then. And I know that it was wrong, seeing him when he was with someone else, but I was in love, and no matter how much I kept telling myself to be rational, and I knew that he would never leave his wife. And then, I saw him and all the rationality just flew out the window. I feel like such a fool in retrospect, but he was Silvertongue in the flesh, that man,” she snarled, her voice taking an edge now.

“He talked big, but when it came down to it, he was a coward. With all the sneaking around, the guilt would eat me up every time I saw his wife, and it - I felt like I was a second choice, like I was a-an afterthought, you know? Whenever he went back to her, or deflected any time I would talk about any possible future for the two of us. Like I was just there to warm his bed.” She cut herself off at that point, taking a moment to compose herself. She realised that she was digging her nails into Killian’s hands, and rushed to pull away, but he held on tighter, silently giving her the strength that she needed to continue.

“After a year, as things are wont to happen when you are sneaking around and not being as _careful_ as you should be, I got pregnant,” she choked out, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Emma opened them a moment later, Killian’s stormy blue gaze fixed on hers. She looked away after a long heated moment, her voice starting to waver. “When I told him, he seemed happy. He even told me he’d leave his wife, tell her that he was in love with me. God, I was so fucking naive. Instead of going to his wife, he went to his fucking dad, the bastard. Dr. Robert Gold, head of Cognitive Sciences and a fucking prick.”

Killian raised his brows at her, but allowed her to continue, masking his chuckle with a cough.

“Word somehow got out that Neal and I were together, and that I was pregnant. And then his wife showed up, stormed into my room in the middle of a session with a patient... It got bad, to say the least.”

Emma was eager to get this part over with, everything in her aching from the memory of that horrid day. “Her outburst caused a lot of complications, especially professionally. Gold chose this as a reason to go to the Dean. He spun a tale of how unprofessional and unethical I was, endangering the mental health of a patient. How I was a _liability_ . The worst part of it was, he said all these things with me there, and Neal was _right there_ . He was standing there without saying a single word in my defense. I had never felt so - so _rejected_ than I did at that moment.” She paused, rubbing her forehead against the oncoming headache, her bones aching with every breath she took.

“Emma, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Killian reassured her, sliding closer until their knees bumped. “I will be here for you when you were ready, even it isn’t now.”

She looked up at him, revelling in his enduring support and the unrelenting care in his eyes. So, with a deep breath, she continued, “I was suspended for a month, pending investigation into my professionalism. If I had been with any other doctor, I would have gotten off with a slap on the wrist, but Gold made it hell for me. A couple of weeks later, I got my official notice. When I got up the courage to confront Neal, he acted as if he never loved me. Like he never promised to be there for the baby, or for me. He told me to ‘ _take care of it_ ,’ like it was as easy as taking out the fucking trash.” Her hands were fisted tight now. “I- I lost the baby two weeks after that. The doctors said it could be any number of causes, but I knew it was the stress and anxiety. I couldn’t take care of myself enough to keep the -”

She couldn’t continue, recalling the time of her life where everything went to shit, where she lost her love, her job and her unborn child all in one go, made her want to crawl into her bed and never leave. Her chest heaved as she hiccoughed through her sobs, shaking her head as if to somehow make the memory go away.

Emma hunched over, hugging herself around the waist, hiding her face from Killian, not wanting him to witness her second breakdown in less than half an hour. He quickly slipped off his chair, kneeling in front of her, grabbing for her hands again, not allowing her to resist. One of his hands raised, pushing her hair from obscuring her face.

“Swan, hey, hey,” he said soothingly, cupping her tear-stained face gently. “Shhh, love. Listen to me, Emma. It’s not your fault. I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but I will keep saying it until you believe it. It isn’t your fault, love,” he implored, making her meet his eyes when she started to protest. “Emma Swan, I promise you. This is not your fault. This is not your fault,” he repeated, never letting his gaze waver from hers.

She swallowed thickly, her hand resting on his on her cheek. “I just feel like - I felt weak for so long after that, Killian,” she admitted, closing her eyes briefly, letting him privy to a fraction of pain dredging up the past caused her, causing a sharp pang in his chest. “And now, a year and half later, I feel like I’m right back there. Right back to that weak, defenseless person felled by a man who, in retrospect, is hardly worth shit.”

She leaned back, breathing out heavily, rubbing tiredly at her eyes. She cleared her throat, staring down at her lap. “Listen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that. I told you that I wanted to keep things prof- What are you doing?” she asked, bemused, as he pulled out his stethoscope, putting the plugs in his ears, pressing the flat end against her chest, making her eyes widen.

“Kill-” she started, but he interrupted her with a finger against his lips and a semi-serious glare, making her snap her gaping mouth close, allowing him this moment of eccentric Killian-ism. He stared at his watch, counting her beats, she assumed.

“Dr. Swan, what I just heard,” he started, taking off the plugs from his ears and wiping them on his lab coat, before handing it to her, gesturing her to put them on. And when she did, he continued, “What I just heard was a very strong, steady heart,” he whispered, watching as she listened to her own _steady, strong_ heartbeat, her eyes becoming glassy with unbidden emotion. “Don’t let anyone or anything convince you you are anything but strong, darling.”

Emma stared at him for a long moment, her thoughts a jumble in her head. The next moment, she surged forward, pressing her lips against his. What started off as fast and desperate eventually slowed, their lips moving softly against each other, as she gasped against his lips. Her hands slid up torso, before moving up to wind around his neck. Killian’s one hand tangled in her hair, pulling her closer to him with the other.

“Swan,” he murmured against her lips, pulling back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing heavily. “Swan, what are you -”

“Thank you,” she said, cutting him off. “For making me feel more alive in the past six months than I have in so long.” She opened her eyes then, staring at him with an awed expression on her face, gratitude on the tip of her tongue when he pulled back slightly.

“Emma, this is – Gods.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted _you_. But I refused to take advantage of you.”

“What are you saying? You’re not – Killian, I kissed you!” she exclaimed, her expression falling into one of confusion.

“I don’t want you to... _be_ with me out of some sense of gratitude. I just, I did want any decent person would do.”

She frowned, watching wordlessly as he lifted himself from his position on the floor, putting his stethoscope back in his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “When I win your heart, Emma, it won’t be because of gratitude. It will be because you want me.”

And with that, he left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts and a gutted feeling bubbling in her chest, her mind replaying his exit.

Killian Jones was a force of nature, and she could say that without a single doubt in her mind because he did the one thing she never thought could happen: he made the dark clouds disappear like the sun during a heavy storm, brightening the path like he did for the new students all those years back, giving them hope for a future ahead. He inspired her then, and he inspired her now. She just had to prove it to him. But first...

-/-

When Emma could finally find the courage to stop hiding in her office, she did the thing she should have done six months ago: find her brother and hug him so hard, it hurt her bones. Being without him all these months, in the town they grew up, seeing his ghost at every turn and her heart aching with a deep loss – well, that hurt more.

“I’m so sorry, David,” she mumbled into his shoulder, smiling for the first time that day, truly smiling, when he hardly hesitated before crushing her against his chest.

“I love you, even though you’re still a brat,” he sighed, cupping the back of her head in the most comforting David-esque gesture there ever was.

“I love you, too,” she chuckled, not even bothering to be mock offended. “Even though you can be incredibly condescending,” she couldn’t resist adding. She pulled back with a long, drawn out sigh. “It feels so good to be back in Storybrooke,” she admitted, a broad grin stretching across her face.

David felt tears prickle his eyes, seeing his sister so inexplicably happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her look this... free. Like she had none of the burdens she usually forced upon herself. He grabbed her shoulders, making her face him so he could revel in the radiance of her joy.

“Oh, David. No, don’t tear up. I’ll start crying, you jerk,” she choked out a chuckle, knuckling away a tear that managed to slip down his face.

He laughed hoarsely, rubbing her shoulders as if to reassure himself that she was really here. That his sister was safe, that she was just – that she was just _there_.

“I’m gonna call Mary Margaret. She must have worn a hole through the floor with her pacing.” He pulled out his phone, moving away to make a call, but stopping for a moment, turning back around and smiling at her, his eyes shining with pride. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

Her answering beam made the last six months of despair disappear in the blink of an eye.

-/-

Emma watched with a smirk as David stumbled to the kitchen from the spare bedroom, tripping over his own feet. “Coffee,” he grumbled, blindly reaching for the cup she handed him without a single word. Nothing came between her brother and his morning coffee. Not even Mary Margaret, she assumed.

“I’m headed to work. I need to catch up on what I missed out on yesterday because of you.” She shot him a mock-glare, slipping on her coat and reaching for her boots.

“Hey, all I did was come in search of my sister. You want someone to blame, blame your boss-man. He brought me here,” David defended himself, his eyebrows lifting in amusement.

“Oh, believe me, I have some unfinished business with Jones. Just not the one you’re talking about.” And with those parting words, she rushed out the door, almost slipping on her last step. But Emma Swan was on a mission, and she wasn’t about to let faulty construction stop her.

-/-

Killian groaned, his head falling to rest against his desk with a soft thud. He had barely gotten any sleep last night, the kiss he shared with Emma making any kind of rest impossible, as it played through his mind like a broken record.

If a broken record played memories of top ten kisses in his life, and all of them were the one he shared with Emma Swan last night.

That woman took him by storm from the moment he met her, from her feisty demeanour right down to the brief moments when she let him behind her walls and see her for the angel she is. No matter what science he believed in, he would argue to his last breath that Emma was nothing short of divinity that graced the Earth.

God, if Regina could only hear the sappy thoughts in his mind right now. She’d probably cackle, that witch. He knew this for a fact because, any time he so much as mentioned Emma’s name, she rolled her eyes and shot some condescending comment about how besotted he was with her, like a schoolboy with a crush. She even had the nerve to compare what he felt to Roland’s new found crush on his kindergarten teacher.

But that reminded him, he had better get the release forms signed for Regina’s patients before she broke down his door, thereby disrupting his day dedicated to self-pity after mucking things up with Emma. Letting out a world weary sigh, he started contemplated hitting his head against the desk once more when he heard a soft knock on his door. Grumbling, he looked up, ready to give whoever it was a sound piece of his mind, but he lost all ability to talk when he noticed who was in the doorframe.

“Swan,” he breathed, standing up so fast his chair fell back with an ungraceful thud. He winced, his eyebrows rising as she let out an unladylike snort, her smile throwing him off. If he remembered yesterday correctly, he’d left her pretty upset, and to be very honest, he’d expected her to completely avoid him, not come in search of him out of her own volition.

She startled him by placing a to-go cup in front of him. “Black coffee with a ton of sugar, just the way you like it,” she said as way of an answer to his bemused expression. And then she proceeded to pull something from her pocket. “And blue Post-its, because you complained about running out of them the other day, and how you use only the blue ones.” His brows furrowed, unable to understand her behaviour.

“Swan, what is -” but before he could finish his sentence, she went on, now perched on the edge of his desk.

“I also know that you’re the one who forgot to water Liam’s orchid while he was gone and let it die. And I know you like pepperoni and pineapples on your pizza. I know you love watching the waves when you feel like the world is moving too fast, but you prefer to be out in the waters much more. I know that you love lilies because they were your mother’s favourite. I know that you claim that The Beatles are you favourite band, but you have a special place in your heart for Wham!. I know that you are a brilliant psychiatrist, and a neurologist, and you studied so much because you were always afraid of being lost under your brother’s shadow. I know _you_ , Killian. I know that you have a good heart, and I know why you walked away yesterday.

“Now you need to know this about me. Yes, I run away from my feelings, which is ironic considering my profession. But I am done running. I am _exhausted_.” She let out a shuddering breath, preparing herself for the next part. “I am ready for - for more. I’m ready for all of it – with you.”

She stepped closer, her hands coming up to frame his face, hazel eyes meeting startling blue. “You did win my heart, Dr. Jones,” she whispered, before pressing her lips against his.


End file.
